The Bonds of Friendship
by Raven6224
Summary: [One-Shot] One afternoon Ron Weasley finds himself alone and spends the day thinking about his friendship with Harry Potter.


The Bonds of Friendship

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Ronald Bilius Weasley could be described as many things, but he, most certainly, would never be known for being subtle nor tactful. It just wasn't his nature.

Now if someone were to be referring to his lack-thereof, it would make the statement accurate. Ron was not unaware of this fact, no it was glaring obvious that he was not as smart and clever as his friend Hermione Granger. And he was not as kind and caring as Harry Potter. He was prone to overreaction and blunt responses. Sometime coming off as an insensitive git and could be somewhat oblivious. Often saying something stupid by mistake.

He'd been in trouble with Hermione many time just for that reason. These unpleasant traits, along with his bouts of inadequacy and jealousy, put him at odds with his best mate Harry as well.

Part of which was the reason Ron found himself one afternoon after his brain-to-mouth filter fizzled out and said something to set Hermione off. In a huff and muttering, she'd gone rushing off mad as all get. Unfortunately, for Ron, Harry was forced to go to some unfair detention given by the greasy bat of the dungeons, Professor Severus Snape. Whom Ron was still convinced was actually evil. The man's only goal in life seemed to be making Harry's life as miserable as possible. Which the Dursleys' — the dreadful Muggles his friend lived with — already did.

While he would never say this allowed, unless under the influence of Veritaserum, a good portion of Ron wished he could trade places with Harry. If only for the moment. He hated Snape just as much as Harry, but he'd much rather be doomed to some foul preparing of potion ingredients than be trapped with his own pessimistic thoughts.

These rare moments of reflection always took Ron to the same place; relieving the most embarrassing, frightening, and utterly deplorable of times. The last of which made him out as a royal arse. Which leads him back to Harry Potter and their first meeting which started it all.

When he'd arrived at Kings Cross Station with his Mum and his four other siblings, he was trembling with nerves. His stomach doing somersaults and his hands clammy. It was going to be his first year at Hogwarts after all past visits had been to drop of his older brothers. Having to stay behind and watch the train disappear after spending the whole night before living in a daydream.

He'd spent that most recent summer imagining plenty of stupid way his first year would play out. All were ridiculous, the sort of fantasies that Fred and George would relentlessly tease him about if they knew. He knew it foolish to believe that everyone would fawn over him like he was special, as if they would adore him like everyone did the Twins.

He wasn't near as funny as them, or smart and focused like Percy, and not the only girl like Ginny. Like always. Ron Weasley was nothing special. Just another boy in the line-up. WIth all these thoughts jumbled in his head, Ron had worked himself into a slump. He had missed Percy going through the platform and Fred and George had just started.

What did going to Hogwarts matter when he'd be the loser who had no friends. Then it came to him, that nasty little voice in the back of his head. The one that always dragged him down. Brutally and viciously. In it's crooked little voice it asked: "Who'd want to be friends with you anyways?" His own parents were far too preoccupied with his siblings to worry about him most of the time. What would change at a school where everyone was much better?

A boy about Ron's age with messy black hair, big round spectacles and bright green eyes appeared just after the Twins had passed through the barrier. He didn't know how to get on the platform and, for the brief moment in which Ron saw him, he thought nothing much of him. Just another boy who didn't know much about the wizarding world.

What he hadn't know was that he'd just met Harry James Potter, the boy who lived. The boy who defeated You-Know-Who as a baby. His eventual best mate who'd been starting his first year at Hogwarts and hadn't even know himself a wizard until he'd gotten his acceptance letter.

Harry had gone first through the barrier and by the time Ron himself had, he'd notice, from the corner of his eye, that Fred and George were helping the boy load his trunk of the Hogwarts Express. The only thought that the trunk must've been heavier than it looked crossed his mind before his attention was redirected. When the Twins returned, they were sure to share the news that the black-haired boy was Harry Potter.

An overwhelming wave of giddiness, which minged with excitement, erupted in the pit of his stomach at the potential chance of really meeting the boy whose story was told plenty of time by both his mum and dad as bedtime stories. Just as soon, his gut clenched painfully with an all too familiar feeling.

Disappointment. There he was again, trying to kid himself. He'd been so convinced that he was deluding himself. That there was no bloody was that the Harry Potter would befriend a dirt-poor schmuck like him. He, the sixth boy, in an already overpopulated family with a house that looked as if one good gust of wind would knocked it over. He'd be a laughing stock. Laughed right off the train more like it.

"Harry Potter can befriend whomever he'd like," the nasty voice had crooned. "He most certainly wouldn't pick you. Why would he? You in your hand-me-down robes. I'm sure he;ll be rather impressed by your brother's old wand and Percy's half-dead rat."

And the chilling cackling laugh had sent shivers down his spine. The self-deprecation continued and he hadn't even argued. It spewed more venom, relentlessly. It was honest in the most horrible way. The sort of rationalization that kept him from making to large a leap from reality.

Ron had willed himself not to search all the compartments for Harry Potter. One after another and, while not completely filled, was crowded enough that another addition would make a rather uncomfortable train ride.

Thus he found himself at the compartment where Harry James Potter had sat, all alone. To keep from looking a total fool, he'd asked if anyone was seated at the spot across and at the boy's headshake, took that as the okay to seat himself. He tried not to stare, it was rude. Or so his mother was quick to remind him. Though he couldn't help but shoot glances at him.

He was the boy who lived after all.

The Twins had reappeared and introduced themselves, and Ron, to Harry and fled. Which led to Harry and Ron eating their way through Harry's humongous haul of pastries and candy. And then that bloody chocolate frog candy, which held the card which would've save them some grief — and hours wasted in the library during first year.

And now, as he lays in the grass under a tree on the Hogwarts Ground by the Black Lake, he can't help but wonder if they even would have been friends if not for such a chance meeting. Ron's blue eyes, which were staring unfocused at the sky seemed to grow even more vacant at this new turn of musing.

Had they met after arriving at Hogwarts or after the sorting. Or perhaps in the dorms, if Harry still ended up in Gryffindor that is. Despite what Draco Malfoy and even Snape might think, he was not completely blind to noticing behavioral ticks. He had acutely noticed Harry's blunt aversion to any comparison to himself and Slytherin house.

There were times when he noticed a more Slytherin trait come from Harry which was usually hidden, however unknowing by the boy himself. No singular moment really stood out, the most notable was when Harry had used a form of emotional manipulation of Professor McGonagall when they'd given Lockhart the slip. Others were just small things he dismissed offhandedly. Ron wasn't unaware that Harry could've ended up in their rival house. He just never made a big deal out of it.

Though it was second year that finally sealed it for Ron. When the rumors spread like a disease through the corridors and everyone rattled on about the Heir of Slytherin. How white Harry would get and the way he would tense anytime the Chamber of Secrets of the heir was mentioned. It had been odd.

Almost as though he were afraid of the possibility. Which brought up the question of why his best mate would worry about Slytherin so much and despises any connection to himself. Especially since he wasn't in that house. Unless he could've been. That was house Ron had always processed it.

And with all that in mind, it was easy to see why Harry wasn't in Slytherin. His decision was made the moment Draco Malfoy had showed his pompous, arrogant and blood-purists ways at Madam Malkin's. Plus Hagrid mentioned that You-Know-Who had been one had sealed the finally nail in the coffin. And Harry would never want to be in the same house as the monster who murdered his parents.

This all led back to Harry Potter. Like it always did.

Back to their unpleasant fight about Harry having his name drawn from the Goblet of Fire. He'd been quite a royal arse and Harry certainly hadn't helped. He tried to swallow his pride, to apologize. Buy by the time he'd managed to work up the nerve, Harry was on the edge of another burst of fury and well-deserved anger. He'd really proved himself a git like Snape. The worst of himself on full display, he was just so… so jealous of Harry.

It wasn't just for the money he had, though the rubbed him wrong too. What really infuriated him had been the way everybody always cooed and fawned over Harry. Sure it wasn't that way with the Goblet of Fire, but he'd had all eyes on him. The chance to stand a champion and prove himself. Something Ron always wanted. To stand out amongst his brothers and to be someone worth knowing. And his anger steamed from how he felt much like he always did. Under the shadow of Harry and utterly small and insignificant. Exactly how it reminded Ron of what being at home felt like.

And his rat Scabbers, who'd been in his family for twelve years and was quite a constant in his life, turned out to be a grown man named Peter Pettigrew who'd been living as a rat all that time. His trust had been misplaced and so when Harry was saying that he hadn't put his name in the goblet, all Ron could imagine was Pettigrew and the betrayal and horror he'd felt. He been deceived and it felt like everything was so unsteady. Nothing was normal. Rats could be people in disguise so what else could someone make up?

The discovery of Pettigrew is really what pushed Ron over. He'd always felt that twinge of jealousy, but it was always easy to push it down and fume about it later. Maybe in the dead of night when Harry and Hermione weren't around.

The feeling was always content to stay hidden, but with everything else that happened, he lost it. The way everyone watched with wide-eyed expressions and slack-jaws as Harry Potter competed in a tournament meant for seventh years. Deep down he'd known Harry hadn't put his name in the Goblet. He should've acknowledged it sooner, instead of ignoring the truth. No better than Fudge. Denying the truth in front of his own eyes.

His unfettered jealousy and anger pushed rational thoughts aside in a sickeningly similar blindness that plagued Snape in anything Harry Potter related.

Harry just seemed so loved by everybody, even his own Mum viewed Harry like another son. Like one she preferred to Ron. Another sibling worth more than him, another child much more special and valued in comparison. Dumbledore adored him, Mum loved him, he had Sirius now, the Twins though him great. Ginny always turned a brilliant red at the sight of him. No one ever got starry-eyed like that over him. He was just replaceable Ron Weasley.

Molly Weasley hadn't stopped having children until she'd had Ginny. The girl she'd always wanted and Ron was just the insignificant boy before the blessing. The weight always settled like a stone in his stomach, that he was another bump. Not substantial in the long run and just an inconvenience.

These were his most private of thoughts though. The deepest, darkest of fears that dwells within the forgotten pits of his mind. Feelings and doubts he'd be too humiliated to ever admit out loud. He'd secretly felt he'd rather face Voldemort himself than ever have Harry, Hermione, or any person in his family discover it.

And as Ron laid in the grass, his glossed-over eyes staring blankly up at the clear blue sky, he didn't even notice the messy black-haired boy with round glasses and bright green eyes was watching him from a top the hill.

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A/N:

Okay so I've never written a Harry Potter fanfiction before. I've got a longer one in the works, but it's way in early stages so it'll be a long while until that ever sees the light of day. Ever since I started doing research for that, it's given me an interesting sight into Ron's character and I may write a continuation of this. In my initial concept, I'd imagined Harry and Ron having a nice heart-to-heart, but I didn't feel like trying to weave it right it. It's nearly three in the morning by the time I finished this. As of now this is my first One-Shot that's not connected to another series I've written. Please let me know what you think.

I may have made Ron seem far more… what the word? Smarter or intellectual then he is, but I thought it'd be interesting to see a different side of him. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed and hopefully I'll get a sequel part soon…?


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